Wednesday, July 14, 2010

A blog for Adriane, et al.

Dear Adriane,

I'm still fighting jetlag, but in my late-night facebook trawling whilst attempting to numb my brain into a REM cycle (and I just spent way too much time there trying to find verbs that could carry an extended laundry metaphor before I gave up to switch my actual laundry), I came across this article posted by my cousin Susan on her page and it sure made me sit up and take notice.

So read this: (I'll wait. Oh, and you can double-click to make it bigger.)

So after the first column these were some of my initial thoughts:

  1. I want to fly to Washington right now so I can find Tacoma and punch her stupid, insensitive face.
  2. If all her single, childless friends feel the same way, heaven forbid they ever breed amongst themselves and propagate their stupidity exponentially.
  3. I really hope I've never even approached this level of insensitivity and am so, SO sorry if I have.
Then I read Carolyn's response, and had some more thoughts:

  1. Should I ever have children, I'm naming my first-born child Carolyn. Even if he's a boy I don't care. I'll give his future wife this article and she'll thank me.
  2. She is treating Tacoma much more humanely than I'd ever be able to.
  3. This is one of the best explanations of the role of a mother that I have ever seen, especially a young mother. Having never been a mother, I hope this doesn't sound presumptuous or offensive, but what I've seen of the Herculean efforts mothers make on a daily basis which must more often than not make them feel like more like Sisyphus makes this ring true to me.
  4. She sums up in one sentence why I am not ready to me a mother: 'It's resisting constant temptation to seek short-term relief at everyone's long-term expense.' A further distillation can produce a single word: Unselfishness.

So, I'd just like to give a brief shout out to my best friend, the uh-MAZ-ing mother of my two most favourite 'nephews' and the funniest person I know. I hope you know that I've seen how much work and sacrifice and effort and sweat and laughter and love you put into each and every moment, each and every day.

I honestly shake my head in awe at what you do while I use selfishly my MA program as an excuse to relax and enjoy...

You are my hero.




Annegirl said...

AMEN. And well said, Meags.

I honestly am in awe of mothers. Their unselfishness. Their energy. Their perseverance. IN. AWE.

You're my hero, too.

Nama said...

Ditto, Meagan. I couldn't agree more! Mothers seriously are wonderful and deserve much more respect than they get.

Adriane said...


I'm sitting down for my break, and the inner conflict is raging. I have laundry to fold, dishes to do, a shopping list to make, and a college to graduate from, but I decided to glance over Google Reader instead.

And now I'm crying my eyes out, did you know? And I love your guts-- did you know that too?

That article is incredible. Tacoma sounds really insensitive when you start off reading, but the really SCARY part is the voice inside my head that is asking similar questions. "What on earth did you do today that made a difference?"

Then Carolyn's answer totally makes me feel better (and look cooler than I personally am). Not to mention it shuts the "Tacoma" inside of me right up. It also gives me a more tangible purpose--spells out what I am trying to do with my life and gives me things to work and improve on. The ambiguous goal "Become a Better Mom" is just overwhelming!

Sisyphus does indeed seem like my mascot on many days--of course, there are the days where my boulder actually makes it to the top of the hill before it crashes back into the abyss. That's not to say that I get everything done I want to, but that I catch a glimpse of progress, or a moment of joy that overwhelmingly makes the incessant climb seem shorter. Or I catch a moment of perspective and realize that I just may miss parts of that boulder when it's removed and I am given a different one.

Really though, I am thankful and humbled by YOUR comments. I fear that my efforts are not as Herculean as I would wish, and that I don't "resist the constant temptation" as often as I need to. Mike takes a lot more of the load than he really ought to. Perhaps the moral of my story is to marry a Man who'll push the boulder up the hill without calling attention to the fact that he's carrying his wife AND her stone to the top of the hill...:P

Nevertheless, it means a lot that you would say these sweet things, and it came on a day when I really needed it. I must say your MA really makes me shudder--I couldn't handle it! So you are my hero too (as are you Annie).

I'm sorry I kind of dropped off the face of the earth once I had my boys--and you have been sweet and patient and flexible always. I love when we get to play and I can't wait until you get back again! Sorry I sometimes write far too much in my comments. :P